Making the Distance
by Gaylien-sparkles
Summary: Written for the RE Kink Meme. Originally titled "Phone Boning" Jill makes a love connection via long-distance call. Jill/Chris phone sex.


**Hey y'all. Here's some good old smut I wrote for the **.  
**The prompt was "Jill/Chris" phonesex. I had a lot of fun writing it and it works up to being some light-hearted fluff for such a recently angst-ridden pairing. Enjoy! And remember, reviews help get my creative juices flowing ;)  
(No, not that way you sicko.)**

"What're you wearing?"

Chris splutters and chokes on the apple he'd been munching prior to picking up the telephone. After managing to remove the hunk from his esophagus, he coughs a reply.

"Flecks of apple no thanks to you. What's with the greeting anyway."

Across the ocean and several timezones away Jill Valentine grins a cheshire grin as she sat of her bed.

"I'll tell you what I'm wearing."

"Jill you're not serious."

"Oh, but I am Christopher. That's right, you like it when I use your full name. 'cause you're a dirty boy."

She frowns at hearing bear-like grunts of laughter coming from the receiver.

"I am NOT going to fuck you via telephone."

"Why not? Sweetie, I miss you. I miss the sound of your voice, how raspy it gets when you're above me, grunting my name over and over." She enounciates the repetition and gives a little moan.

"Jill." He warns, looking down at his pants warily to see a definate bulge. Traitor. He glares at his mighty warrior, it always has agreed with Jill more than him.

His eyes widen as he hears more pronounced moans coming from the receiver, he knew that moan, it was the 'oh yes right there' moan that sent shivers down his spine.

"Jill?"

"Cotton pyjama pants, the ones with the penguins that your sister got me for christmas. Lavender blush tank top, cream bra, striped panties, currently soaked in the front. The drawstring at the front of my pants is straining slightly, as I am fingering myself while talking to you."

Grah! She didn't need to be so blunt about it!

Chris takes a deep breath into the receiver and sits on the couch, undoing his belt buckle.

"Gray military issued T-shirt... uhm..." he curses under his breath and exhales, "brown jeans.. wait a second" he checks his boxers, "Duff Beer boxers. You got me them for my birthday three years ago. My dick is currently sticking out of the flap."

She chuckles and makes a victorious crotchgrab, if she had a free hand it would have been a fistpump.

"'Kay... uhm... what next?" He asks rather lamely, looking at his weeping stiffy poking from his boxers.

"We tell each other what we'd do to each other if we were in the room together. In a detailed manner. For example; right now I'd grab your sexy Dr. Stiffmeister and give it a nice stroke, rubbing my thumb over the head and slowly sliding my palm down 'till I got to your fuzzy coconuts."

"Are we using innuendo? I'm confused, I think there's a thesarus nearby if you wanna be all Jane Austen about it. And if I recall correctly, his name is Professor Coxington PHD."

She snorts from the other end and rolls her eyes.

"You can grab the thesarus if you want, just keep one hand free Baby, hell put me on speakerphone and jizz all over the Webster's."

He was silent.

Sigh. "And I'm sorry PROFESSOR Coxington."

"PHD."

"PHD."

"Good. Right now I'd be sucking your boobies."

"I can't exactly suck my own tits Chris."

"Then get your thumb wet and rub 'em. Also, bra off, tank on."

"This will require some maneuvering." She grunts, wriggling out of her bra whilst keeping her tank top on.

"Get to it, you phone-boning whore, you." He replies with a grin, still rubbing his aching cock with one hand.

"Ew. Chris. I like the Bone comics."

"I said Phone-bone, not Fone Bone."

"They're synonyms or homonyms or whatever. Still gonna make me horny whenever I read those books now." She grunts and fiddles with the straps of her trapped brassier.

"Those must be some pretty good comic books." He chuckles.

"Shut up and phone-bone me." She says, finally free of offending garment.

"Alright. I tweak your nubile nips through your tank top, wetting the areas around them because it makes the sensation positively orgasmic." He drawls in a faux British accent.

She snickers at him but eventually the noises become a more heated sort of panting. He grips his erection, feeling uncomfortably hard.

"Uhm... Jill, you know I'm not as... long-lasting as you right?"

"Sorry, what was that?"

"I'm getting close to coming." He grunts.

"Alright, alright. I'd let go of your dick and move to take your pants off, tickling your thighs as I push the legs down to the floor. Usually oral sex would be involved, but as we've -ah- established, that isn't quite possible. I'd then kiss you as I tugged your T-shirt off and drag my nails over the front of your chest, all the way back down to your boxers, then back up again."

"Tease." He grunts. He's getting close and she knows it.

"Do me now, Bitch."

A deep breath. "Alright. Uhm... I'd slowly pull the drawstring on your pjs and push them down. Your panties must be soaking by now. I pull them tight up around your buttcrack, like a thong."

She moans encouragingly.

"Heh, I snap the elastic hard and spank your cunt and ass lightly. I start to finger you through your panties."

Her voice is gruff, like it gets when closer to orgasm, "Ahem, we should maybe... take pictures to send to each other."

"Pretty sure we can just email 'em. I don't want some Japanese postmaster getting off on a picture of you getting off."

"Speaking of Japan, did you know that they compare the male sex organ or 'package' to an elephant's head?"

"Thats -ah- retarded. How do you know this?"

"Saw it on TV, some kids show that's drawn crappily. Looks like it was made with crayons, all sorts of weird shit in it." She replies with a guttral moan.

"Please tell me you're not watching creepy Japanese porn while making sweet phone love to me."

"The TV is now off."

Chris groans and makes a strangled noise, "Can I touch my dick yet?"

"What? Oh, yeah, sorry. Go ahead, but do it slowly, lots of cupping those coconuts."

"Just call 'em balls."

"Idon'twanna."

The conversation dies down as the pair fondle themselves to the sound of heavy breathing, it's Jill who breaks the silence.

"We must be wracking up a killer long distance bill for the BSAA."

Chris's reply was somewhere between a snort and a grunt.

"You coming Baby?"

"Yeah."

She gave her clitoris a hard flick through her soaked panties and moaned, feeling her hips buck and insides clench in orgasm.

"God.. Chris."

"Jiilllll..." He thrusts roughly into his hand, picturing the cavern of his palm as her soaked entrance.

When it is over they are contendedly lying on lovestained furniture, roughly five time zones apart.

"See? That wasn't so bad." She says, running her fingers over her stomach.

"I still prefer the real thing. Love you."

"See you in the funny pages Redfield."


End file.
